


Sweet Small Things

by Meatball42



Series: Rare Pairs [46]
Category: Firefly
Genre: F/F, F/M, Friendship/Love, Massage, Multi, Open Relationships, Sensuality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-19 00:37:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9409745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meatball42/pseuds/Meatball42
Summary: On quiet nights, Zoë will let her husband know she won’t be getting to bed until late, and she’ll go to Inara’s shuttle after dinner.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lostinthefire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostinthefire/gifts).



> Many thanks to htbthomas for a speedy and insightful beta!

They don’t do it all the time; only when the ship is quiet, their fellow crewmembers distracted by their own affairs.

Before dinner, Zoë will inspect one of the screens in the cockpit, as though double-checking their course, and mention to her husband that she won’t get to bed until late tonight. Every time, without fail, Wash will jolt and turn to look at her, eyes wide and slowly getting wider, trying to glean from her posture whether what he thinks is going on is really going on.

Zoë will look at him, expression blank, until the shock in his eyes transforms into excitement. “Uh,” he’ll say, “sure, that’s- fine, okay. Yeah. Good. Uh-huh.”

Zoë will refrain from rolling her eyes affectionately.

At dinner, Wash will be twitchy. Sometimes he babbles, other times he’s notably silent. Zoë considers this entertainment, and if the carefully hidden smile on Inara’s face is anything to go on, she does as well. The rest of the table, ignorant to the reason behind Wash’s behaviour, will get annoyed, curious, or laugh at him, as they tend to individually.

When dinner breaks up, Wash will go to clean the dishes, bouncing with extra energy. Zoë will kiss him for a long, quiet moment, then leave dining area. Wash always watches her go.

When she arrives at Inara’s shuttle, the door will be open. Zoë enters quietly, letting herself be slowly enveloped by the spicy incense, the rattle of the music, and the aura of sensual relaxation that Inara inexplicably manages to cultivate on a ship so often full of livestock and violent argument. She can feel the trappings of her life outside slip away from her shoulders, leaving her weightless before Inara even emerges.

The Companion always dresses up for Zoë. There is a certain style of dress that Zoë grew up seeing through thick veils as wealthy concubines passed through her village, never stopping to mingle with the common folk. Once, Zoë mentioned that she used to fantasize about those women, and as a surprise Inara acquired a dress of golden strands, wood and bronze breads, jade and sapphire accents. It drapes over her body, shifting and clinging, hiding and revealing sand-toned flesh with every movement, and the glory of Inara wearing it shocks Zoë to silence every time.

Inara will stop a respectful distance away from Zoë and greet her. Through a dry mouth, Zoë returns the greeting, and allows herself to be led to a low table to sit on a sumptuous pillow.

Inara serves them fragrant tea and sweet small things, and the liquid loosens Zoë’s tongue. They talk, then, as close friends, about the planets they’ve visited and the sights they’ve seen, the people they’ve met. Things they’ve learned. Their experiences are widely varied, and though they’ve been friends for a long time, they do not run out of things to say.

When the libations are gone, Inara rises, and takes Zoë’s hand to bring her along. They sit on the bed. Inara holds Zoë’s gaze, warm and inviting, while she removes Zoë’s clothes, her fingertips lingering and sending shivers through Zoë’s body. When Zoë is naked, she lies down on her front on the bed. A new scent fills the air, jasmine, and Inara puts her hands on Zoë’s skin and pushes away all the stress, the anger, the violence, and the bottled misery of life as the second-in-command of a smuggler’s vessel.

When Zoë has been massaged within an inch of consciousness, Inara slowly turns her onto her back, stroking her hair and skin as she moves. She begins touching Zoe again, but lighter this time, for pleasure rather than purpose. She begins at Zoë’s temples and trances down the lines of her, not skirting the sensitive areas that make Zoë twitch or gasp. A new tension starts to build as Inara’s soft, clever hands find the places that make Zoë warm inside, and the lethargy of the massage fades into desire.

When Zoe is shuddering on the bed, breaths coming heavy and eyes begging, Inara stops, one hand pressing gently on Zoë’s chest. Zoë settles, though her eyes still beseech Inara for more of that sensual touch. Inara leans over her, slowly, the strands of her dress letting through distracting glimpses of her curves, and places one soft kiss on Zoe’s open mouth.

They remain there for a long moment, breathing each other’s air. Then Inara will sit back and guide Zoë up, and they will together put Zoë’s clothes back on. Inara walks around the shuttle, putting out candles and sticks of incense, while Zoë gets her feet under her. At the door, they share one more kiss, and say they will see each other the next day.

Zoë will make her way through the quiet ship, footsteps as light as if she were walking on clouds.

When she descends into her room, Wash will be there, seated on their bed, leaning forward in excitement. His eyes will track up and down her body as though he can see some sign of the night’s events on her. As she undresses, he will realize that he can smell it, and take deep breaths of incense and jasmine oil.

Belatedly, Wash will realize he’s still wearing clothes, and he’ll shuck them in a hurry while Zoe lies down on their bed. Looking at her naked body, still glimmering from the oil, will set his hands to shaking, and when he finally touches her he sweeps his hands over her body, gathering the slick on his skin. Zoë arches into his touch, shuddering already, and they kiss desperately.

Zoë climaxes almost as soon as her husband enters her, eyes squeezed shut and jaw clenched to hold in the sounds of her ecstasy. Wash will mumble “Lord have mercy” under his breath, watching her face with surprise and joy that have never really gone away, in all the years they’ve been wed.

She’ll climax again before he does, whimpering into his neck and digging her fingers into his shoulders and flanks while he swears into her hair. Then she’ll kiss him, wrung out and desperate, until he shudders against her and stills.

One of them will eventually feel a chill and drag the blankets over their bodies, and then they’ll lie, dazed, in each other’s arms, sharing breath, until they fall asleep.


End file.
